


A Night Like This

by Teethteethteethteethteethteethteeth



Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys - My Chemical Romance (Album), The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Comic)
Genre: Dialogue-Only, Foreshadowing, Gen, Late Night Conversations, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-05 08:49:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25347991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Teethteethteethteethteethteethteeth/pseuds/Teethteethteethteethteethteethteeth
Summary: Stars, and conversation
Relationships: Val Velocity & Volume
Comments: 10
Kudos: 15





	A Night Like This

**Author's Note:**

> It’s been a while since I wrote anything. This started off as a way to explore how I think stars are like in the Danger Days universe, and it turned into me being sad about Volume, and then my Val-apologist agenda got mixed up in it, too. Enjoy!  
> (Warnings for light romanticization of death, and light paranoia)

“Jet Star.”  
“No, my name’s Volume.”  
“I know what your fuckin’ name is. I’m talkin’ about Jet Star.”  
“What about ‘em? You tradin’ in your Party Poison obsession?”  
“Their name. ‘Jet’, I get, but why ‘Star’? Stars aren’t nothing special.”  
“Used to be, I think. I hear that there were more stars up there than you could count, even if you took all night, an’ they glittered like nothing else.”  
“Shut up. No way they made it through the smog.”  
“Smog wasn’t always there.”  
“Well where was it?”  
“What.”  
“Where was the smog, if not in the sky?”  
“Oh, DESTROYA, you think the smog was always there? That’s fuckin’ hilarious, Witch, I can’t believe you thou—“  
“Fuck off! Either explain the shit, or go away.”  
“Touchy, aren’t ya, oh my leader?”  
“Fuck. Off.”  
“You’d miss me too much.”  
“Like hell I would, annoying fucking asshole.”  
“You know me so well. And anyways, if I go, there’ll be nobody to tell you all about the stars.”  
“Like I care.”  
“I’ll wait.”

“Fine. Tell me about the stars then, if they’re so damn great.”  
“I thought you’d never ask.”  
“Stop looking so fucking smug about it.”  
“I’m not looking smug! It’s dark besides, you couldn’t see it if I was.”  
“I can feel it.”  
“Thought you didn’t believe in energy and that shit.”  
“I don’t! It’s just facts that you’re a smug high-and-mighty bastard who can’t keep from pattin’ your own back at every opportunity.”  
“Aw, thanks, Val!”  
“Anytime. Now get on with the stars.”  
“So there were so many stars you couldn’t count them, the sky used to be clear and dark, not the smoggy lit-up shit we’ve got now, there wasn’t too many satellites, so all you could see was the stars and the moon, what else do you wanna know?”  
“You’re skippin’ through it all too fast. You know any details?”  
“Hell yeah I know details. Stars used to make patterns, you know, constellations.”  
“I’ve heard the word. Constellations.”  
“Yeah, it means star shapes or some shit. You could see animals, an’ people all up in the stars, and there was stories about them, too.”  
“You know any?”  
“Not really.”  
“Damn. Would’a been cool.”  
“There’s one about how come bears don’t have tails, I think? And one about a scorpion stinging somebody.”  
“The hell’s a bear?”  
“Like a coyote, I think.”  
“Coyotes have tails.”  
“I _know_ coyotes got tails, asshole. I said they’re _like_ coyotes, not they _are_ coyotes!”  
“There’s nothing like coyotes except dogs, and those’ve got tails too.”  
“Not if they get cut off for beauty or whatever.”  
“‘S that what they do to bears?”  
“Anyways. Stars.”  
“Yeah, keep goin’!”  
“Aw, are ya excited? Enjoying this, maybe?”  
“Volume. Stars.”  
“Admit you’re havin’ a good time.”  
“So you can hold it over my head? No way.”  
“Say it!”  
“Volume.”  
“You too proud to admit you’ve got more emotions than ‘angry’ and ‘angry at the world’?”  
“Shut up. I’m havin’ a good time, or whatever.”  
“Oh, Witch, I might just die of shock!”  
“You can’t die. I’d miss yellin’ at ya. Stars.”  
“So there was one real bright star, I think, maybe one of the ones we still see. And it was always in the same place in the sky, I think? And people used it to figure out where they were at.”  
“How?”  
“I think it pointed the direction they were headed.”  
“How’d a star point?”  
“Maybe it was in dreams or somethin’?”  
“Fuckin’ metaphor shit.”  
“Never could wrap my head around it, either.”  
“Hm.”  
“There was stuff called shooting stars, too.”  
“What’s that mean?”  
“I guess they fell out of the sky sometimes, crashed to earth like satellites.”  
“Shit, really? Thought stars were forever.”  
“Can’t be forever, or else there’d still be as many up there as before.”  
“Oh, yeah. So what happened with them? The shooting stars?”  
“I think they just died. Burned real bright a bit, then stopped burning at all.”  
“Oh. Guess they got tired, too.”  
“Too?”  
“You know. All this shit. One day we’re gonna burn bright an’ burn out. Fall to earth or whatever.”  
“You are good at metaphors, after all.”  
“Shut up and take me seriously, I’m talkin’ about us dying, here, Volume.”  
“I dunno about you, but I’m never gonna die. Too much fun out here to give it up now.”  
“You’re not... tired, at all? Don’t feel like it’s all done fuckin’ repetitive cycle? We kill, we die, we get replaced, and BL-fucking-I laughs as we try to take ‘em down?”  
“Ha, _damn_ , that’s bleak! Y’alright, Val Velocity?”  
“Fuck no! Never am, not while those assholes in white control our every move.”  
“Hm. Can’t ya just ignore it a bit? Pretend like they’re not?”  
“Not when they’ve got eyes ‘round every sand dune, ‘C/R/O/W/S breathin’ down our backs! Fuck!”  
“Hm.”  
“You don’t believe me?”  
“I do, guess I just don’t take it so seriously. You’re so damn driven, Val, not sure if I envy you or pity you.”  
“I could say the same about you, carefree fucker.”  
“I’ll drink to that.”  
“My point exactly.”  
“You got me there.”  
“You’ll be out here long enough, an’ get tired of it all, same as me.”  
“That a promise?”  
“Oh, you’ll be cryin’ with relief to lay down in your grave.”  
“I will if you keep talkin’ all depressing like that, hm?”  
“Whatever, Volume. Just. Don’t go too eager, you understand? Wish I could keep it all from happening, wish I could break the goddamn cycle.”  
“I bet you will. An’ I’ll be there to cheer you on.”  
“As if.”  
“I’m serious! If anyone can do it, it’s you.”  
“I won’t be the one to break the cycle. Too much blood on my hands, dug myself too deep in this damn hole.”  
“Metaphors again?”  
“Shut up.”  
“I trust you, Val, you know? You’re a real good guy.”  
“That’ll get you dead someday. Dead an’ disillusioned.”  
“Sounds like you’re halfway there yourself.”  
“If only.”

**Author's Note:**

> Wonder what happened between here and the comics to change Volume’s mindset...  
> Leave a comment below, and find me on tumblr @wishiwasthemoon-tonight!


End file.
